Serious Situation
by Faerax
Summary: During Thanksgiving, Chris walks in on a serious situation at home.


Title: Serious Situation

Authors: Faerax

Series: None

Spoilers: None

Setting: ATF Universe

Disclaimer: Magnificent Seven belong to MGM, I think.

Summary: Chris walks into a serious situation at home.

Author's Notes:

Written for Jinx7985 to celebrate her new homecoming … because I was afraid the cats would eat a houseplant. And Jinx, I still think that people do like to beat on Ez, and far be it from me to break tradition in my first M7 fic... even though Chris somehow took over the spot light. I know M7 is an "old" fandom, so I'm quite sure something like this has been done before. I apologize if I've accidentally trodden on someone's toes while still learning the dance.

The month of November had not been easy on him or his team, Chris reflected as his truck climbed the hill up to the ranch house. Nathan, sitting beside him, and Buck, taking up the "king" section of the king cab were both still wound up. Perhaps having the next few days off for Thanksgiving would calm everyone down to their normal levels of chaos and tension. If it didn't, he feared that some members of his team would come to blows. Even that was preferable to them chewing on each other verbally out of tension and boredom. Stressful situations the seven men could handle. Long periods of idleness and paperwork was a recipe for disaster; it gave them too much time to think and brood.

Nathan was gritting his teeth so hard that Chris feared he would break a molar. Even now he was carefully avoiding Larabee's gaze, no doubt still stung over being told to "stuff a sock in it" by Buck in the store mid-way through a rant about commercialism and the holidays or maybe he was feeling guilty over the pie. Buck, in the back seat, lounged gracelessly in the small space. It was a curiously tense pose for a man pretending to be at ease. Buck and Nathan had been "volunteered" by Josiah and Vin when the other two men had had enough of Nathan's method of stress relief – namely hovering over the mildly ill members of the group. The two men had managed to catch a cold as well as a smuggler importing illegal alcohol. JD, perhaps the wisest of them all, had simply retreated to to the bunkhouse to catch up on sleep or the latest video game. The ATF leader wasn't sure which, but he had his suspicions after he had seen a version of the game yesterday where a JD avatar was cheerfully mowing down enemies that suspiciously looked like his teammates. He'd taken particular delight in squashing a Buck avatar with a large building.

JD, it appeared, was not ready to forgive Buck for walking in on Casey in the almost altogether. Or perhaps it was the comments about "tapping that" he hadn't forgiven. It wasn't really clear to the older man and he wasn't about to set off the one other relatively calm member of the team.

It was a very bad week when Ezra was the least troublesome of the group. Of course the drugs had a lot to do with it, Chris mused. The man had taken a bad spill on ice leaving his condo, and had managed to put his back out of alignment and sprained his ankle severely. The only permanent damage had nearly been to the bust that had given Vin and Josiah their shared misery, and that was because of the man's adverse reaction to the drugs he was on to bring down the swelling in the ankle. Ezra's drooling and watering eyes had been amusing but had prevented the ATF agent from making the deal that would catch Montgomery Fitzgerald. Thankfully Josiah had been present at one of the meetings as Ezra's "muscle" and had been able to save the deal at the last minute.

Ezra's atypical reaction to what should have been a mild anti-inflamatory resulted in more drugs to counteract the drugs in his system, and then for fun, they put him on pain meds. Nathan may have had a hand in it, having threatened the garrulous man multiple times that his next injury would result in a coma of epic proportions, just to keep the peace and quiet. Ever one to push his luck, Ezra had congratulated Nathan on expanding his vocabulary to include the phrase "epic proportions" after the announcement. Josiah had been able to stop them before a fist fight broke out in the hospital that time. The end result was an undercover agent that had spent the last three days under the cover of Chris' guest room duvet. The covert operative had spent the last two days asleep or sleepwalking through the ranch, more a chemical cocktail than a human being. He was also a living lesson on biological inertia. Getting Ezra up in the morning had been nearly impossible, and most times, he went right back to sleep within 3 minutes. Privately Chris had kept notes on the exact drugs and dosages that had reduced the man to a walking Public Service Announcement for narcolepsy, just in case Ez went on another binge of annoy the hell out of the team leader because it was Tuesday.

It was now Wednesday, and the day before Thanksgiving. Chris briefly wondered what Sarah and Adam would have thought about the mad house the ranch was currently turning into around him. Sarah would no doubt have laughed it off and pointed out that there would always be room for one more. Adam would be amazed at his "uncles." Both would have likely approved of Chris opening up his home, and that was what had made him do it after so long. Of course, Sarah actually knew how to cook a turkey and all the "fixin's" and Chris had no idea where to begin. Most Thanksgivings up to this point had involved microwave dinners after his family had died. Before that Sarah had exiled him from the kitchen saying he would burn water. It would be a miracle if the 7 of them didn't end up with the house torn asunder by some sort of frozen turkey explosion. He wouldn't it put it past Wilmington and Tanner to do it just for fun.

The men had all gathered at Chris' house for the holiday, and were planning to stay through Saturday. Originally, it had been planned that most of them would all go their separate ways until Ezra fell and needed someone to watch him. Buck was a given, as he had been for most major holidays, staying to prevent Chris giving himself alcohol poisoning. From Ezra and Buck, it grew to Vin, who had wanted to go riding anyway. Somehow Josiah invited himself, Chris still wasn't sure how that had happened. Nathan's relationship with Rain was still too "new" for either to be comfortable meeting the family, and since the others were already making themselves house guests, he thought he might as well invite JD and make it a full set. Now if they could only keep from killing one another - Chris didn't want to fill out the paperwork for a multiple homicide.

The trip had begun innocently enough. Nathan and Josiah had started to plan for what they needed for the next day's feast. Vin had looked at the list and declared that a Green Bean Casserole was required. Buck chimed in with wanting cranberry sauce, which it turned out was lacking in the entirety of the ranch. Well, edible cranberry sauce was. There was one rusted can set back into the pantry that looked like it may have originally been sealed in 1948. Then came the argument about sweet potatoes and white potatoes, and which to have. Instant mashed potatoes, which Chris had bought in preparation of this ordeal, were deemed unfit for human consumption. Larabee would have blamed Ezra for that particular phrase except that he *knew* the man was asleep on the couch, just as he had been for the past two hours. JD just wanted pickles and onions, and Josiah wanted olives. It was Nathan that asked what everyone thought Ezra would want (the answer was resoundingly pie) and suggested Pecan to show that they considered the somnolent southerner's opinion in the festival to come.

Chris wanted desperately to say what his father always said in situations like this: You'll eat what's there and be damned grateful you got anything at all. He must have been learning tact because he was able to refrain from it, barely. He was able to hold out against all of them until the unexpected attack from Nathan. He expected such tactics from JD, but it turned out that Nathan had perfected the big, soulful, slightly hopeful, slightly disappointed look of a puppy. He'd steeled himself against JD but that left him open to Nathan. When Chris finally caved, he demanded help. It took a braver man than he to go walking unarmed into a supermarket on the eve before Thanksgiving. That's when Vin and Josiah volunteered Nathan and ran, and JD seemingly evaporated into thin air. Getting Ezra up simply wasn't worth the effort.

Thus so it was that Buck, Nathan, and Chris did battle with the legion of forgetful and surprisingly vicious late Thanksgiving shoppers. It was one of the scariest scenes Chris had ever seen in this country. The shelves were mostly picked bare, largely because of the storm the previous week and with the holiday on top of it there was a shortage in supplies. It took three grocery stores and one Wal-mart (where Nathan became incised by the Christmas displays) to get everything on the list of added, absolutely required Thanksgiving dishes. In the first store, Buck had been waylaid by an older woman looking for french onions. Buck, generous to a fault and knowing that it was a necessary ingredient for Vin's casserole, decided to help her look for them. After all, the woman was about 80 and wearing a nun's habit, it wouldn't be any trouble. It was his first mistake. Nearly an hour later Buck had basically been conned into traveling up and down all the aisles with the good sister, and had been her fetch and carry boy the entire time. Buck Wilmington – Prisoner of Attila the Nun.

Nathan had snickered over that so much that Buck had threatened to mail him to Rain's family. The second store had fewer people, and much fewer items. It did, however, have a lovely Pecan pie, and it was the last one in the store. They struck out in the third grocery store. It had looked like the locusts had gotten there first. The Wal-mart trip allowed them to be able to scrounge up the last of the supplies, some decorations, and paper plates, red Solo cups, table cloths and other things. Nathan had actually found a nice cornucopia centerpiece filled with real fruit. The three men checked out of the Wal-mart, pleased to have finished the dangerous mission with the only major casualty being Nathan's temper. As they placed the last of the supplies into the flatbed, Nathan placed the centerpiece on one of the bags he thought held only canned goods. In reality, it held Ezra's pie, which wasn't up to supporting the weight of all the fruit packed into the horn of plenty and was squashed like a bug.

The worst part was knowing Ezra would just take it in stride. He wouldn't get angry, he would just smile in that understanding way of his. And then the little bastard would plot his revenge and there would be no peace for anyone until he felt vengeance was served. No force of nature could out do an irritated Standish, and he played mean when he thought he had been wronged. The last time Chris had annoyed the ex-FBI agent he came back to find every pair of pants, shorts, shoes, and underwear in his house missing. He'd been in the shower when the theft occurred and had to call Buck to deliver some pants. The clothes had later turned up in various places Chris frequented, like the local diner (delivered with his check), Nettie Well's front porch, the flagpole in the federal building, in a conference room, inside Mary Travis' truck (which of course had been found by Orrin and had to be a pair of Y fronts that looked like a cougar had gotten to them first). He was still missing some clothes. The only thing that might save all of them, and specifically the three shoppers, would be that they thought to get him the pie in the first place. Even that was no assurance of receiving Ezra's clemency. They couldn't even go back and try to find another one because the stores were all closing early. Maybe they'd let Ez sleep through Thanksgiving and tell him when he woke up on Saturday that the pie had been the best one that he'd ever had.

Fears of this Thanksgiving being at best, a disappointment to his men clouded Chris' thoughts. He had taken these men into his home, and now at least one member of the group was going to be upset. The truck settled back on the tires as he set the brake and undid his seat belt. Nathan and Buck were quick to escape, grabbing the groceries from the bed of the truck. The two men were laden with every bag in the truck, leaving Chris to move a head and open the door. The kitchen door had been inconveniently blocked by Vin's Jeep and Josiah's Suburban. The group had to go in through the main door, into the small entrance hall that branched off in two directions. One went to the kitchen, where Buck and Nathan retreated with the bags. The other way went to the great room, where the ATF agent had last seen Vin, Josiah, and Ezra.

JD and Vin had their backs to the hallway; that was the first thing he noticed, quickly by Ezra being on his feet with the possible assistance of Josiah. The look in Ezra's eyes promised havoc and murder, as did the line of JD and Vin's shoulders. Chris cautiously entered the room, trying to assess the situation between his men. How the man that had been doing his best to impersonate a coma patent and the three more mild mannered members of the team had gotten into a serious fight was beyond him. He just knew he needed to end it before someone was seriously wounded.

He edged behind JD and Vin, and saw that the conflict seemed to center on JD and Ezra. JD was actually growling at the southern man. Ezra's face was in a rictus grin, the most feral and disturbing thing he'd ever seen on the man's normally congenial face. Even as Chris took this in, Ezra spoke, his accent thick with rage, "You, sirrah, are the most deluded individual I've ever had the misfortune to make the acquaintance of, and as such are unquestionably wrong. Admit it now."

"Big words from a man who comes from a state that prides itself on it's nuts. They even exported them to Colorado. You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you." JD's voice held as much venom as Ezra's had held rage.

Ezra's face turned red. "I've had enough of this. And you. This ends now." The man raised a gun, and in one quick shot fired it. JD also raised a weapon a split second after Ezra, and also fired. The resounding silence after the two gunshots seemed to to last for an eternity. In that brief, endless span was broken when Ezra clutched his chest and fell back into Josiah's waiting arms. JD's motions mirrored the falling man, gently lowered to the floor by Vin. Both of the men gave a quiet gasp. Josiah gently placed Ezra back on the couch, while Vin cradled JD on the floor. If either made another noise, Chris couldn't hear it. He was stunned into immobility by the shock of watching his men literally kill one another.

The spell was broken when a soft voice with a gentle accent said "No one really knows which one said the immortal last words, or if they both did. You see, in the end the conflict over looked one, critical element. It wasn't about if pie or cake was better. The men could have solved their differences if they'd just shared the bond both deserts share with ice cream. That is why, no matter how fiercely the debate rages on internet forums and home kitchens, we must remember the ala mode."

A little boy giggle broke the silence following the solemn pronouncement. Vin removed a beaten up harmonica and proceeded to play Taps over JD. Josiah covered Ezra with an afghan completely and positioned the man's wounded ankle over the edge of a couch arm. It was promptly removed at the insistent sound of the Kitchen timer going off. Ezra lept off the couch and hobbled into the kitchen, helped or encumbered by Billy Travis. Chris noted that the gun which dropped to the floor was one of his old cap guns he had once played with himself. JD's gun was newer, and capped with the orange nose tip that the toy guns all were required to have today.

Chris followed the limping man into the kitchen to see Nettie Wells, Mary Travis, and Orrin Travis all industriously scalping and filleting vegetables. Nathan and Buck were putting away the groceries that it felt like Chris had bought last month instead of bringing through the door 5 minutes before. Maude Standish politely excused herself by Chris and went to help her son with the oven, where a pie indeterminate filling was being extracted.

Vin dropped a hand on Chris' shoulder. "Welcome home, cowboy."

"Indeed," Josiah's soothing bass voice agreed.

"How? Why?" Chris motioned to the busy kitchen, now complete with a young boy getting between everyone's feet.

"Sleeping beauty there thought that you might need some help, so he asked Nettie, who asked Mary. Then Maude made a surprise trip to visit and nearly had a coronary when Ezra wasn't in his condo. To keep Billy out of the kitchen, and to avoid being put to work, she decided to tell of why people shout "remember the Ala mode!" to Billy, as acted by Ezra and JD." Josiah paused, a wide smile on his face. "You didn't really think Ezra could sleep that much, did you? The man does have limits. Somewhere. He was using the time you left him alone to make arrangements." Josiah's amusement with the situation was clear. Indeed it seemed like whatever tension the men had at the office had disappeared. Even Buck and Nathan were smiling in the happy war zone that was the kitchen.

"Maude must not have been very good at history," Chris commented, forgiving JD and Ezra for the stroke he nearly had had thinking that the two men had killed one another.

"Nah, she just didn't want to depress the kid with the truth, and besides, Billy didn't realize it's Alamo. Think I like her version better." Vin's happy grin was evident in his voice.

JD laughed, and the leader turned to the young man. "Can't wait to see what she comes up with for Pirates versus Ninjas."

Chris and Josiah rolled their eyes as the entered an already overly populated room. His new family wasn't his old one, but they sure made his life interesting, something he was grateful for this Thanksgiving.


End file.
